The Shot Heard 'Round The World
by Solo Ensemble
Summary: Spinelli builds a time machine in Penthouse II, and the results are disastrous for Jason and Elizabeth.
1. I

**The Shot Heard 'Round The World**

There was a giant, gleaming pile of scrap metal in his living room.

And it was beeping.

"Spinelli! GET DOWN HERE!"

His roommate popped up from behind the metal monstrosity with a monkey wrench and a Phillip's flathead. "Stone Cold! You've returned…a little ahead of schedule!"

"What the hell is this thing?" he demanded, stripping off his leather jacket. "Why is it in my living room? What'd you do with the pool table?"

"I moved it into the kitchen, duh," he replied. "So? Any luck? Did you find the Fair Elizabeth? Did you convince her to come home from New York and give your relationship another shot?"

Jason scowled and tossed his jacket onto the couch. "I couldn't find her. I parked outside her apartment and sat there for hours, but she didn't come home."

Spinelli's shoulders slumped. "So she didn't even know that you made the trip to see her?"

"…I got a voicemail from her telling me to go home and that she didn't want to see me anymore."

His friend set down his tools and walked over, his expression remorseful. "So that's it, then? The Fair Elizabeth won't take the Stone Cold one back?"

"I don't think so, Spinelli," Jason sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Listen, I'm going to go upstairs, so just…get this crap out of here by morning and have the guys move the pool table back in."

"Er…Stone Cold?"

He glanced over his shoulder. "What?"

Spinelli smirked at the beeping gizmo. "What would you say if I told you I might have a way for you to go back in time to before you started sleeping with Kung-Fu Courtney so that the Fair One would never leave Port Charles and would still be cohabitating here with us?"

Jason wasn't following. "Are you high again?"

"What? No!" Spinelli swept his hair out of his face and hopped back around the machine, picking up his tools. "This is the Spin-O-Matic Awesometown USA Time Traveling Machine. I realize the name needs a little bit of work," he added, "but it's a fully functional time traveling machine. And it can take you anywhere you want to go."

Jason stared at him. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"I'm serious," he insisted. "I've been working on this non-stop for the past three days while you were in New York trying to convince Fair Elizabeth to forgive you for your alcohol-induced transgression. And I've done a few trial runs, and it works! It really works, Stone Cold! And I can't think of anyone better than you for the maiden voyage."

"…You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Spinelli rolled his eyes. "Look, I'm telling you, I tried it out. I sent myself ten seconds into the future, threw a handful of confetti in the air, sent myself back to the present, and ten seconds later, guess what happened."

"Your brain fused."

"No, there was confetti raining down! Stone Cold, if you're not at least going to try, this isn't going to be any fun. It's so totally simple. I just have to twist a few knobs and I can send you back in time to before you slept with the Bubblehead Barbie and when Elizabeth was still living here with us. And then all you have to do is, you know, _not _sleep with the Donkey Girl."

"Enough with the nicknames, Spinelli."

"I'm just saying that she doesn't have a good gum-to-tooth ratio," Spinelli replied. "Let's put it this way, Stone Cold: what do you have to lose? Say this time machine doesn't work. Say you step back out and you're still in the present. What did you lose? Why not just give it a shot?"

He eyed the beeping monstrosity suspiciously. "What do you have to do with this thing?"

"I'll show you." Spinelli took his arm and hauled him over, pushing him through a little portal and into the garishly lit machine. "You stand there, okay?"

Jason nodded, feeling just a little stupid. Spinelli was always designing crazy gizmos and doo-dads that he wanted Jason to try out. There was his Butler-O-Matic that was a timed grill that would automatically fry bacon next to your bed in the morning. That thing had nearly set the bed on fire. And of course, Jason wouldn't soon forget Spinelli's Shave-O-Matic that consisted of six razor blades on a spinning fan for maximum coverage. The stupid kid had actually expected Jason to try that without having a few doctors on hand for the imminent transfusion.

"Just stand here?"

"Just like that," Spinelli affirmed. "I'll take care of everything."

"Whoa, whoa," Jason interrupted, "don't actually do anything. Just tell me what you would do and what would happen, but don't actually do it. Just in case this death trap actually works."

"It _does _work, but okay. See, you stand right there. And I stand over here." He quickly trotted over to the control board, tools still in hand. "See, there are all these knobs and buttons here. I switch the knob back to a random spot."

He twisted the knob around, not particularly caring where it landed because after all, this was just a trial run. "And that's when I would make sure to set it back to exactly where you wanted to go. And then I'd press these buttons like this and…Oops."

Jason's eyes widened when the machine began to whir. "Spinelli? What happened?"

"…I dropped my wrench on the control board."

Jason swore and was just about to leap out of the thing when it began to rumble, and then it began to smoke, and he heard Spinelli's yell but he couldn't see him because there was too much smoke and the lights were all going off and the thing was shrieking and…

Spinelli stared, slack-jawed, at the empty time machine.

"Holy shit."


	2. II

**II**

He was going to _kill _Spinelli. 

What had started out as one of the boy's typically goofy schemes had soon turned into a complete disaster. Why he was so surprised and so unprepared was a mystery to him.

Something had gone wrong with the machine, that pile of scrap metal, and now Jason had no idea where he was. It was dark, that was his first thought, and he was lying on something that was sweet-smelling, soft, but just a little scratchy. And God damn it, his side hurt like hell. Maybe some of the metal had broken off the damn thing and sheared him; he had no clue, but that was the only explanation he could come up with as to why his hand was covered with sticky redness when he drew it away from his flank.

God, it hurt so much. Jason sucked in a ragged breath and tried to make sense of things. At least he was in the dark, and he wasn't bound up, so there was an excellent chance that he could remain hidden until he figured things out. He could hear heavy breathing a little way off, accompanied by a dull grinding noise and the occasional plops and rustle. There was someone else here, too, someone who also wanted to remain hidden. It was a good thing he still had his gun with him.

Jason shifted in the hay, his gaze drawn upward by silver cracks in the darkness, and realized that it was the moonlight breaking through the ceiling of an old barn. The heavy breathing and plops must have been coming from farm animals – a cow or a goat, maybe a horse. That would explain the smell, too.

Yeah, he was going to fucking _kill _Spinelli. Instead of just demonstrating how his damn machine worked, the stupid kid sent him to a barn.

A goddamn _barn_.

He would have laughed at how stupid it was if his side wasn't hurting so damn bad.

A slow creak snapped him out of it, and every muscle in Jason's body tensed as he listened to the eerie sound. He heard footsteps, accompanied by a soft pitter-patter, and a girl humming. Yes, it was a girl, and she was humming.

His grip on his gun loosened.

"Cinnamon, I brought you some sugar," he heard her say. "There, sugar for my favorite mare. You're such a good horse, Cinnamon, and we need you rested and ready for tomorrow morning."

Jason rolled his eyes. Great, he was stuck listening to a girl talk to her pony.

"Tomorrow you must carry Father over to where General Washington and his men are camped. We need every last patriot we can find, Cinnamon, if we are to defeat the Tories in town and throw off King George. You _must _make it to Valley Forge."

The horse neighed in response, licking up the sugar in her palm, and Jason was sure his heart had stopped beating.

General Washington.

King George.

Valley Forge.

_Fuuuuuuuuuuck_.

--------------------

Back in Penthouse II…

"Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God," Spinelli chanted as he crawled around the machine on all fours with his wrench and flathead screwdriver. Then, thinking better of it, "Oh, Krishna. Oh, Buddha. Oh, Yahweh. Oh, Tom Cruise. Oh, Spongebob."

Hey, at times like this, one couldn't be picky.

"All right, where is he?"

Spinelli's grip slipped and he crashed to the floor at the familiar voice. Outside in the hall, Milo and Max were sputtering incoherently at the visitor.

"Spinelli? SPINELLI!"

He poked up from behind the couch, gopher-like. "Yes, Fair One?"

Elizabeth jumped, startled for a moment, but recovered nicely. "Where's Jason, Spinelli?"

His green eyes darted nervously around the room. "Uh…"

"Why was he camped outside my apartment all day?" she fumed. "What is his _problem_? He left Port Charles and drove all the way to New York to do what, exactly?"

"Well…one could argue that you left New York and drove all the way to Port Charles to yell at him," Spinelli pointed out.

Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "He started it."

The boy wisely chose to dip his head in agreement. "You're right."

"He can't keep coming after me, Spinelli," Elizabeth sighed, wearily leaning against the hutch of an armchair. "He can't keeping doing that. We're done. It was his decision to end us when he…slept with that Clown Whore."

Spinelli perked up at that. Now here was someone who would appreciate his skill for coming up with nicknames. "Well, with all due respect, Fairest One, you did move out on him."

"I was angry," she snapped. "Don't I get to be angry with him?"

"Of course," he replied. "But Stone Cold's a little different. He wanted to be with you for so long and he wanted so badly to make it work and to spend his life with you, and then you got mad and left him and he freaked out because he thought he'd ruined things with you forever, so what would it matter if he self-destructed and slept with his sister-in-law?"

He got up from behind the couch and gave her a sympathetic look. "He was upset. Doesn't he get to be upset?"

"Yeah," she replied slowly. "But he doesn't get to sleep with Kung-Fu Courtney!"

Spinelli's eyes lit up. "You call her that, too? So do I!"

She rolled her eyes. "It's not as simple as him just being upset, Spinelli. He slept with her two days after I moved out."

"Uh, I think it was two weeks."

"Same difference," Elizabeth scowled. "Two days, two weeks, who cares?"

"Look, Fair One, you have to know by now that I really like you," Spinelli admitted, hopping over the back of the couch so that they were seated closer together. "I really liked living here when you were here. Since you left, Stone Cold's been a grouch. All he does is play pool and drink and dodge the Donkey Whore's phone calls."

Elizabeth brightened. "Because of her huge teeth?"

He nodded proudly. "Not a good gum-to-tooth ratio there. But my point is, I really liked you two together. And I wanted you to work things out. But you got mad and left and wouldn't talk to him, and he did something stupid and then he couldn't face you for the longest time and then when he finally got the courage, you packed up and left Port Charles. You two just keeping missing each other. Don't you think it's time you just stood face to face and got everything out there? Even if you decide that it's better for you not to be together, shouldn't you at least talk?"

She stared at him for a long moment and then finally, much to Spinelli's surprise, she actually nodded. "Maybe you're right. You know, you're a lot smarter than you look."

"Thank you," he beamed. "Wait – were you insulting me?"

"No," Elizabeth replied hastily. "Believe me, I didn't mean it like that. I've always thought of you as this sweet, goofy kid, but you're very perceptive. And it's very nice of you to want to help me and Jason out."

He shrugged modestly. "Like I said, I liked you guys together."

She nodded resolutely. "I've been pretty childish about this whole thing, too. We really do need to talk. So, where _is _Jason?"

Spinelli gulped and the metal gizmo behind him beeped as if on cue. "Funny you should mention that…"

Elizabeth followed his gaze to the metallic monstrosity that took up the entire space where they had put the pool table. "Spinelli…what did you do?"


	3. III

**III**

"Oh, my!"

He had been discovered. That was what all the exclaiming was about.

"Who are you? How did you get in here?"

Two of the largest blue eyes he had ever seen peered down at him, and for a moment Jason forgot how to breathe.

"Well? Who are you? What business do you have here?"

It was Elizabeth.

Plain and simple, it was Elizabeth. She was wearing a thin, pale blue dress and had her dark hair pinned up under a white bonnet, and she was staring down at him and asking him the same questions he should have been asking her.

"Elizabeth?"

Great, now he knew this had to be a joke. Oh, he had to hand it to Spinelli, this was a good one. Damn kid actually had him going – he'd actually thought that he had traveled back in time to revolutionary times. Maybe next time he wouldn't hassle the kid so much about his goofy inventions.

What was he saying? Of course he would.

"Elizabeth, what are you doing here?"

She drew back in horror. "How do you know my name?"

"You can stop now," he told her gruffly. "I know you're upset with me and I deserve it, but you can stop now. Spinelli? Spinelli, get out here, it's over."

She looked around nervously. "Who are you talking to? Who _are _you?"

He gaped up at her. "Elizabeth, it's _me _– Jason."

Her brows furrowed, and the next thing he knew one of her small, ice-cold hands shot out and clamped over his forehead. He yelped at the freezing contact, prompting her to quickly draw it back. Thinking better of it, she gently grasped his shoulders and leaned down to rest her cheek on his forehead.

"My, you're feverish," she murmured, troubling her lower lip. "And…oh! You're hurt!"

He groaned when he felt her ice cold fingers pull up the fabric of his shirt. "Yeah, Spinelli's damn machine. Part of it must have broken off and sliced my side or something. Damn kid. I should never have let him get his welder's license."

"Yes, yes, it's all Spinelli's fault," she soothed, trying to get a better look at the wound while encouraging him to keep talking. Jason suspected she was humoring him. "Horrid little rascal that he is."

"Why are you talking like that?" He grunted, his hips bucking off the hay, when she probed the sensitive flesh around the wound. "Stop, stop."

She gasped when he reached out and grabbed her hands, holding them between his. "What are you doing? Unhand me, sir!"

"Shut up," he grumbled. "And stop talking like that. Your hands are freezing."

Her lips thinned. "It's the middle of winter, in case you hadn't noticed."

"What are you talking about? It's spring."

"Jason." The word sounded strange on her tongue as she tried to get used to it. She'd never called a man by his given name before, unless he was younger than she. "It is wintertime. I only wish it were spring, and that this war were over, but we're still suffering through winter."

"No one talks like that," he continued to grumble, refusing to let go of her hands as he warmed them between his. "Get that kid out here. This is all his damn fault."

"Jason, there's no one else here," she replied softly, gently pulling one of her hands free and using it to brush his hair back from his forehead. "It's only us."

"At least you're here," he murmured as his eyes started to close. "You know how to take care of me."

"I-I'm afraid I've never treated a wound like this."

"Yeah, you have. You took care of me when I was shot."

Her eyes widened. "You were shot?"

"Yeah," he replied with just a touch of irritation. "I got shot, you found me in the snow, and you took care of me."

"I-I can try to take care of you now," Elizabeth replied. "But Jason, I must explain, we've never met before. I don't know you. I don't know who you think I am, but I'm not her."

His eyes drifted closed. "I know you're mad at me and you have every right to be. But don't tell me that I messed everything up that bad that you don't know me. Elizabeth, I…"

She sighed and pressed her finger to his lips. This man was delirious and wouldn't understand another word she said. "It's all right. I'm just going to clean you off, all right?"

He nodded. "Then tell Spinelli I'm going to kill him."

Elizabeth started to smile, but then something awful occurred to her. "Are you a Tory?"

"Don't want a story," he grumbled. "Just going to sleep."

"No, no." She gripped his shirt, forcing him to open his eyes and look at her. "Are you a Tory? A Redcoat? Are you loyal to King George?"

"Don't have a red coat," Jason sighed. "Only black."

Elizabeth groaned in frustration, and her gaze fell to the cotton shirt he wore. "Oh! It's blue!"

He cracked an eye open. "What's blue?"

"Your shirt," she explained excitedly. "Your shirt is a faded blue. Don't you see? You're a patriot – you can't possibly be a Redcoat. Good thing for me, too. If you were a Redcoat, you'd most likely have killed me after I saved your life."

It was a morbid little joke of hers, but Jason still gaped at her in horror. "Elizabeth…I would _never _hurt you."

Her lips parted in surprise. "I didn't mean-"

He was actually beginning to tremble, from anger, conviction or the cold, she didn't know. "And I would _never _let anyone else hurt you, no matter what happened between us."

"Of course," she soothed immediately. "I don't know what I was saying. Just lay back, all right? Just lay back and don't make a sound lest someone hears you. I'll run back to the house and fetch a pail of water and some laudanum for your pain and be right back."

"And tell Spinelli I'm going to kill him."

She gave him a small smile. "…I will."

----------------------

"Fair One, I don't think this is such a good idea."

Elizabeth sighed and dusted off her hands, slowly picking herself up from the floor. The two of them had been tinkering with the machine for the past two hours, and they were just about there. "Look, Spinelli, you sent Jason back to some unknown time period, and someone's gotta try to bring him back. You have to stay here so that you can operate this thing, so it has to be me. Now give me the armband."

He handed over the Velcro armband that would enable him to keep track of where she was through the machine. In retrospect, he probably should have made Jason snap it on before he accidentally dropped his wrench on the control panel.

"Are you sure about this?"

"It's the only thing we can do," she replied simply, stepping into the machine. "Someone's gotta bring him back, Spinelli. He could be hurt or in danger or worse. I need to find him and bring him back. So go ahead, do what you have to."

"Okay, I made a mark where all the dials were so that I wouldn't forget," he replied. "I'll just turn them all back to that spot and…there. Is it working?"

"I don't know," Elizabeth said, looking around when the lights began to flash. "It's doing something. Is it supposed to – oh, my gosh, is that smoke?"

Spinelli coughed as heavy white smoke began to once again fill the penthouse. "Yes, it's – working. Best of luck, Fair One. Uh, Fair One?"

He stared dejectedly at the empty time machine. "…Best of luck."


	4. IV

**IV**

"Is there anything else you need me to do for you?"

She finished taping up the bandages and wiped her hands on a scrap of terrycloth. His shirt lay discarded next to her and a pail of reddish-pink water sat on her other side, and Elizabeth was greatly relieved that the endeavor had been a success. She never had to tend to a wounded man before. Her mother and sister had once nursed an injured revolutionary back to health after the Tories had left him for dead in the back alley, but she had nearly fainted at the sight of his injuries and her mother had ordered her into her bedroom so that she wouldn't.

But she had actually done it: She had saved this man's life.

"Jason?" she whispered, leaning closer. His breathing was slow and his eyes were mostly closed. "Is there anything else you want?"

Her heart caught in her throat when his lashes fluttered and she found herself staring into his cerulean eyes. Good God, he had the most beautiful eyes she'd ever seen. "I need one more thing."

Her brows jumped. "Yes, of course, just tell me what it is."

His hand caught hers and gave her a little tug. Elizabeth squeaked and fell against his chest, bracing her hands there so as not to hurt him with her weight. Jason just smiled and touched a finger under her chin. 

"This."

Her heart was hammering as he closed his eyes and leaned forward, ready to brush his lips against hers. Elizabeth's lashes fluttered when she felt his breath on her lips, and she dipped her head down to-

"Just _what _do you think you're doing?!"

Elizabeth gasped and straightened at the sound of the unfamiliar voice in her barn. She blushed fiercely when she recalled just what she had been about to do – she was almost kissing an injured revolutionary! – and whirled around to find herself staring at…

…Herself.

"Oh, my goodness!"

"Oh, my goodness is right, you little-"

Present-day Elizabeth stopped just one pace away from Jason. "Oh, my God."

The two women gaped at each other.

"Who _are _you? Why do you look like me? And why on earth are you wearing trousers?"

"I-I-" Elizabeth struggled for words. "I don't know how to explain this, but I think I _am _you. Or at least, one of your descendants. What's your name?"

"I am Elizabeth Webber," the brunette squeaked. "I am the youngest daughter of Geoffrey Webber. We've lived in New York for generations. Why, my forefather Gareth Webber was-"

"One of the men aboard the Mayflower," Elizabeth finished grimly. "Yeah, I know. He was my great-great-great-great-whatever-grandfather, too."

The colonial girl gaped at her. "This isn't possible. How is this possible?"

She rolled her eyes. "This is going to sound crazy, I know, but it all started with a time machine. That's how I'm here. It was Spinelli's time machine."

"Spinelli?" The girl's eyes narrowed and she looked down at Jason. "He was the gentleman you wished to kill!"

Jason grunted something incoherent as Elizabeth edged closer, trying to get a better look. "Damn kid."

"Oh, my God," Elizabeth got out when she saw the bandages. "What happened to him?"

"He was like this when I found him," the other brunette explained. "I came to give our horse a leftover lump of sugar and found him here. I think he was injured and left for dead by Tories. That has been happening often, I'm afraid."

Elizabeth shook her head, crawling around to Jason's other side. "No, I think he was injured by the machine. A piece of the ceiling part broke off when he used it – that's what me and Spinelli spent a few hours fixing – and it must have pierced his side. Is he all right?"

"I bandaged him up the best I could," she answered. "I've never done this before, so I don't know how much good I was."

Elizabeth managed a gentle smile. "Trust me, you did fine. You might have even saved his life. I'm just glad you found him when you did."

She offered her a matching smile. And really, it matched remarkably well. "I as well. He has a bit of a fever, though, and he hasn't been responding to me very well."

"Oh, I don't know," Elizabeth sniffed, "he seemed to be responding all right when I got here."

Her historic counterpart blushed. "Yes, well, I'm positive now that he's mistaken me for you. He was quite amorous."

Elizabeth laughed and gently stroked Jason's cheek. When that didn't earn any reaction, she lightly slapped him there. "Hey. Jason! Wake up."

He grunted, then groaned, and opened his eyes. They could see the shock and recognition on his face when he was met with not one but two pairs of big blue eyes, and his eyes widened in wonder.

"Elizabeth? There are two of you?" His lips curled into an impish little grin. "_Yes_."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Oh, brother. Can you help me put this idiot's shirt back on?"

The girl nodded and reached for his t-shirt. "Should you be that unkind to him, though?"

"Trust me, he has it coming," Elizabeth grunted as she struggled to help Jason into a sitting position. He groaned but got up, leaning heavily against her. "He's no sweet lamb lost in the woods, like you're thinking."

The colonial Elizabeth's brows furrowed. "Really? What does he do?"

"He cheats on us with a skank named Courtney Matthews."

The girl's eyes widened. "Courtney _Matthews_? Why, I know her! She's the town strumpet!"

Elizabeth wasn't familiar with the period's lingo. "Strumpet?"

"A woman of extremely easy virtue," her counterpart emphasized. "Oh, he must be diseased if he's lain with her."

Elizabeth made a face. "You know, I don't know. But you can bet that I'm going to make him get tested."

"Tested?"

"Never mind."

"Well, it certainly wasn't a nice thing for him to do to us, at any rate," colonial Elizabeth sniffed. She reached out and poked Jason in the shoulder. "Did you hear me? We expect groveling, Jason, lots of groveling."

"Don't worry, we'll get it," Elizabeth smiled. "But I really need to get him home. First home, then groveling."

"Home? Where is his home?"

"Port Charles, New York."

"But we are _in _Port Charles, New York."

"Yes, but we need to be a little more than two hundred years in the future."

She snapped her mouth shut. "Oh. I see."

------------------------------

_Back in Penthouse II, a little more than two hundred years in the future…_

"Come on, come on, Fair One, come on," Spinelli muttered as he paced around the living room. "Come on, come on…"

"Hello?"

Courtney Matthews poked her head out from behind the door Elizabeth had left partially ajar several hours ago. "Oh, good, someone's actually home. I've been calling here for the past two weeks and no one ever picks up."

"There's something wrong with our phone," Spinelli grumbled, still pacing. "We're working on it."

"Is Jason around?"

"No."

Courtney pouted and flopped down on the armchair. "Boo. Well, I'll just wait here til he comes back."

Spinelli made a face. "He's not going to be back for a while."

"That's okay, I have nowhere to be."

He rolled his eyes and picked up the black armband he'd left on the end table. "Okay, suit yourself."

"Hey, what's that thing over there?" she wanted to know. "It looks like a picture booth."

"It's a magic trick," he replied. "Wanna see how it works?"

He quickly twisted the dials on the control panel and motioned Courtney over. "Okay, I'm going to get in there, and you hit that button when I tell you to, okay?"

She nodded eagerly and watched as he climbed into the machine. "Now?"

"Go for it."

----------------------------

_Two minutes earlier…_

Spinelli stepped out of the time machine and trotted over to the door that Elizabeth had left open several hours earlier. It took him ten seconds to kick it shut and slide every single lock into place, and it was only when the final bolt had been latched that Spinelli let out a sigh of relief.

Presently, there was a knock at the door and he could hear Courtney's voice. "Hello?"

Spinelli glanced at his watch and smiled. "Right on time."

"Hello? Jason? Spinelli? Anyone home?"

"Not for you, bitch," he muttered, heading back over to his machine. It wasn't a clever nickname, but Spinelli still thought it fitting.


	5. V

**V**

"How are you going to get back to your time?"

"I press this button on the armband to connect with the machine," Elizabeth explained, keeping her other arm looped securely around Jason. "The machine beeps and Spinelli sets the controls, and we go back to when we came from."

"It surely sounds simple enough," her historic counterpart agreed. "Do you think he can make the journey?"

"He'll be fine," Elizabeth grunted, letting him lean more heavily on her. "And please don't use that word."

"Journey?"

"That's the one."

The girl's brow furrowed. People from the future certainly were strange. "So…will I be seeing either of you again?"

"Not unless Spinelli goofs with the time machine again," Elizabeth smiled. "This was all just one big accident, believe it or not. I think Jason and I have done enough time traveling to last us a lifetime."

"His fever's still dangerously high," she murmured, frowning at Jason's sweaty brow. "You had better go at once so that you can get him the care he needs."

"I have the care I need," Jason muttered, resting his head against Elizabeth's neck.

She rolled her eyes in response. "Do you see what we have to deal with?"

"What did we ever do to deserve this?" her counterpart joked along.

"I wish we had something to give you," Elizabeth murmured, looking around. "I feel like we're going to leave and we'll never see you again and you probably saved his life and…I wish I had something to give to you."

"A reward isn't necessary," the girl argued. "I didn't do this with the intention of seeking reward."

"No, I know you didn't, it's just…Oh!" Elizabeth reached out and patted Jason's pockets, horrifying her historic counterpart with the liberties she took. Feeling what she was looking for, she reached in and scrounged around for it.

"Lower," Jason murmured.

"Oh, shut up! No one's doing that, not to you, and especially not now." She huffed and reached a little deeper until her fingers closed around it. "Okay, got it."

Colonial Elizabeth had gone as pale as a sheet. "…You just reached into his trousers."

Elizabeth blinked. "Yeah."

"That was horribly indecent."

"Trust me, he liked it." She had to smile when Jason mumbled something against her neck. "See?"

"What did you take from him?"

"Oh, right." Elizabeth opened up her palm, revealing a shiny quarter tails up. "I was thinking that I didn't have anything to give you, but then I remembered the perfect thing. Here."

The girl took it and turned it around in her palm. "What is it? Oh! It has General Washington's face on it!"

"It's a quarter," Elizabeth explained. "It's a coin backed by the United States of America."

Her eyes widened and a glimmer of hope flickered there. "The United States?"

Elizabeth beamed proudly. "The United States of America. You'll find out soon enough, but King George III is overthrown. The colonies are given their independence, and General George Washington becomes our first President."

Tears glimmered in her dark blue eyes. "You mean it? You're not joking? We achieve independence?"

"Our Declaration of Independence is signed and sealed on July fourth," she confirmed. "We call that our Independence Day, even though the members of the Continental Congress continue to sign it until August. So that is what I am giving you: an official U.S. quarter."

"It's beautiful," her historic counterpart got out, turning the coin over and over in her hands. "I vow I shall never part with it."

Jason snorted, his voice slurred and groggy. "It's just a quarter."

"It's not just a quarter," Elizabeth snorted. "It's-"

"A good luck charm," the colonial Elizabeth finished with a smile. "A sign of things to come."

----------------------------

"Oh, all hail the Fair One!" Spinelli gasped, frantically waving away the smoke that poured out of the machine as it brought Jason and Elizabeth back into the present. "The Jackal was beginning to worry."

"I found him," Elizabeth grunted, struggling under Jason's weight. Spinelli quickly darted into the machine and looped his mentor's other arm over his shoulders and helped haul him out. "Thank God you wrote down the exact positions of the dials."

"What happened to him?"

"You know that part of the ceiling thing we had to repair? It must have fallen off and sliced his side. It's probably floating around in the sixth dimension by now."

"Here, here, let's get him on the couch." Spinelli quickly arranged a few pillows and then helped to gently lower Jason down. "Okay, okay, now what?"

"Call his doctor," Elizabeth ordered, bending to untie Jason's boots. "Tell him to get over here. His wound is cleaned and bandaged, but he has a fever that most likely means he has an infection. He might need to be prescribed something."

"On it," Spinelli replied, hopping over to the phone. It took him a couple minutes to explain the situation to Dr. Mulvaney, the official mob doctor, but he opted to make it a little less creative and leave out the whole part of the time machine. "He's on his way."

Elizabeth had stripped off Jason's boots, socks, and jeans and was now arranging a blanket over him. "Great. I'll wait with you."

"…Why does Stone Cold have hay in his hair?"

"He was in a barn."

Spinelli let out a hoot of laughter. "A barn? What was he doing in a barn?"

"He was making out with the colonial me."

The boy stopped and stared at her. "…Are you kidding?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "No, no, that's exactly what he was doing. I got there and he was about to kiss the colonial version of me."

She expected him to laugh at that. After all, there were few things Spinelli loved more than a little fun at his beloved mentor's expense. But instead, the boy just gave her a little smile as they stood over a sleeping Jason.

"See, I knew you two were meant to be together."

"…How about I send you back in time to _before _you started being such a romantic?"

"Ha, ha. Let's not abuse the power, Fair One."

**The End.**


End file.
